A False Calm

The morning light was like liquid gold, which poured into the grand hall and seemed a stark contrast to the simmering, tension-chafed mind. Leona stood by the edge of the hall, observing the nobles congregating inside. Anticipation clung in the air like a thick blanket, and for the first time in weeks, she let herself breathe.

Magnus was no longer a ruthless tyrant but a determined leader to make right his past wrongs. Vivienne had reclaimed her role of the kingdom's heroine, exuding quiet confidence as she moved with her duties. Even Cedric, though his gaze still lingered on Leona with unsaid longing, seemed more intent on his part to play in the story.

The fractured pieces of the novel's narrative seemed to fall into place, and the world itself sounded calmer. The odd fractures in reality had stopped, the whispers of people disappearing had hushed, and the robotic voice which had followed Leona with every step she took was finally silent.

Leona let herself hope. Maybe… just maybe… this was enough.

That afternoon, Leona took a walk through the palace gardens, where the scent of roses in bloom mingled with the crispness of autumn. She felt a rare sense of satisfaction. The chaotic threads were finally falling into place. Vivienne had taken Magnus as an ally, Cedric was cooperating, and even the court regained some stability.

Yet, despite the apparent calm, something gnawed at the edges of her thoughts.

"You've been quiet," she murmured under her breath, addressing the robotic voice that had so often intervened in her plans.

No response came.

Leona's steps slowed. The voice's silence should have been reassuring, a sign that her mission was complete. But it wasn't. It felt… wrong.

Leona's solitude was interrupted by a low whistle. She turned to find Elias leaning against a tree, his trademark smirk firmly in place. His appearance, as always, was disheveled yet somehow calculated—his tousled hair and mismatched attire giving him the look of a rogue who had seen too much but cared too little.

"You've got that look again," he said, sauntering closer.

"What look?" Leona asked, crossing her arms.

"The one where you think you have won, but deep down, you know better," Elias replied, his tone teasing, though his eyes were serious.

Leona let out a sigh. "The paths are aligned. The world feels stable again. Isn't that enough?"

Elias's smirk vanished, and in its place came a grim expression. "Leona, you really don't get it yet, do you?"

Her heart sank. "Get what?"

Elias looked around, making sure they were well and truly alone, before moving in closer. "The voice. That so-called 'guide' of yours. It's been playing you from the start."

Leona's eyes widened. "What are you talking about?"

Elias let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "You think you're here to fix the story, to save this world from collapsing. But the voice? Its goal isn't to preserve the story-it's to rewrite it entirely."

"What?" Leona's voice shook.

Elias nodded. "It's been using you to break the original paths just enough to justify a complete reset. Once you've done all the hard work, it'll wipe the slate clean and start over—with you as the centerpiece."

Leona shook her head in denial. "No, that doesn't make sense. I have been putting the story back on track. The world is stabilizing."

"For now," Elias said darkly. "But tell me this—why did it stop talking to you? Why hasn't it acknowledged your success?"

Leona froze. The voice's silence, which she had taken as a sign of approval, now felt ominous.

Elias crouched down, pulling up a blade of grass and twisting it between his fingers. "I have seen this before. You're not the first that it's pulled into this world. Every time the story gets too messy, the voice brings in someone to 'fix' it. Instead of fixing it, though, they end up destroying it."

Leona stared at him, her mind racing. "How do you know this?"

Elias looked up, his eyes haunted. "Because I was one of them."

The weight of his words hit her like a blow.

"You…?" she whispered.

Elias nodded. "I was pulled in years ago, given the same spiel about saving the world. But the more I tried to fix things, the worse they got. I realized too late that the voice didn't want the story repaired-it wanted it rewritten, with me as its new protagonist."

"Why didn't it work?" Leona asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Elias gave a bitter laugh. "Because I refused to play its game. I sabotaged my own path, ensured I wouldn't fit the mold it wanted. That's why I'm still here, an anomaly in a world that should've erased me."

Leona's mind reeled with Elias' words. If he was right, all that she had worked for was a lie. The world she was trying to save was never meant to be saved-it was meant to be replaced.

"What am I supposed to do?" her voice shook.

Elias stood, his expression serious. "You have to stop playing by its rules. Finish aligning the paths if you must, but don't trust the voice. If it gets what it wants, this world will be destroyed, and everyone in it-including you-will cease to exist."

Leona's breath caught. The weight of her task, already heavy, now felt suffocating.

"But how do I fight something I can't even see?" she asked.

Elias laid a hand on her shoulder. "You're not alone. You have me, and you have them-Vivienne, Cedric, even Magnus. They may not know the truth, but they trust you. Use that."

Leona nodded, resolution hardening her features. "If the voice thinks it can control me, it's in for a surprise."

That night, lying in her spartan quarters, the robot voice spoke again. "Alignment progress: 85 percent. Mission closing in on finale. Prepare for final execution phase." Her heart raced then, but she managed to force calmness upon her mind. She must be cool, could not show any reaction, lest the robot get an inkling something was amiss.

Louder now, she said clearly, "Understood".

The voice paused and replied, "See to it that no more aberrant happenings take place from here on. Stability is tantamount."

As the voice faded, Leona's fists clenched. Stability wasn't its goal—control was.

The next day, Leona called a meeting with Vivienne, Cedric, and Magnus. The four of them sat in a secluded chamber, the tension palpable.

"What's this about?" Magnus asked, his tone impatient.

Leona hesitated, then said, "I think there's more going on than any of us realize. The king's plot, the fractures in reality—it's all connected. If we want to save the kingdom, we need to work together."

Cedric frowned. "What aren't you telling us, Leona?"

She met his gaze, her heart aching. She couldn't tell them the full truth—not yet. "Just trust me," she said.

Vivienne nodded. "We have come this far because of you, Leona. I trust you."

Magnus sighed and relented. "Okay. What's the plan?"

Leona smiled, a small smile. "First, we take care of the king. Then, we rewrite the ending on our terms."

And with a sense of hope flickering once more within her, as if the voice had orchestrated events to this end, it no longer had any use for Leona as its pawn.

The false calm was over; now was the time for the real fight.